


Day 9 - Face fucking - Rottenjoke

by ashtrayy



Series: Kinktober 2019 : Skeleton Edition [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Day 9, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Forever still bad at tags, Kink, Kinks, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Skeleton Sex (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Tribadism, give it a try maybe, rarepair alert, rottenjoke - Freeform, yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 16:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20969504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtrayy/pseuds/ashtrayy
Summary: Razz is grateful for Sans.





	Day 9 - Face fucking - Rottenjoke

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing way too much for this kinktober. Anyway, here is day 9! I love this pairing very much thank you.

"I can go back home, Sans." Razz wants to sound annoyed but he mostly manages to sound exhausted. The other skeleton is pushing him into his dirty room, hands leaving his shoulders only to close the door behind them. 

"you're tired, and lucky you, i got a bed." Razz glances at the mattress on the floor, wondering if it can even be considered a bed. He once refused to even touch it, but now that he has slept on it so often, he can only give his disgust a second thought. Usually, Sans would lay down a clean blanket, one that comes from Papyrus’s stock. "even slim is sleeping here." As usual, Sans doesn’t just say _I want you to stay_. It’s too direct, he knows Razz would turn around. 

It took a while for him to understand this little game. He is bad at reading people, no matter how much he tries to say the opposite. It’s just… hard. 

“And what? The dog should be fine alone.” He sighs, feeling the small buzz of the wine he drank earlier at the back of his mind. Razz ignores with practice the glare Sans gives him following the nickname he gave his brother. This is one thing they will never agree on.

The sigh Sans gives is deep. He reaches slowly for Razz’s arm, careful to give him enough time to move if he doesn’t want to be touched. “you’re tired, i’m tired, we’re tired, i got a mattress, would you be my princess?” He puts great drama in it, bringing Razz’s hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it with his teeth. 

It shouldn’t be funny, it is distasteful, but Razz finds himself having to hide a smile with a offended cough. “I certainly am not a princess.” The truth is, he doesn’t feel like arguing with the other anymore. In fact, maybe he unconsciously decided to follow Slim to the Tale skeletons’ house so Sans would keep him here for a little. 

He doesn’t want to think of the implications behind this, he can’t afford to become weak. Even so, he lets Sans wiggles his brow bones at him. “no? you’re hard to reach, so i thought you were in a tower.” 

Razz rolls his eye lights. “I am getting closer to the door.” 

“aww, come on, buddy, friend, pal, ba…” The corner of Sans’s smile must really be tense for even Razz to notice (or maybe he spends too much time with the other so now he can read him better). He searches for something on Razz's face that he doesn't seem to find, because he continues. "...be." 

This sign of affection, Razz is unsure of how he is supposed to take it. The warmth between his ribs is not what he thinks it should be, yet it feels nice. "That's new." He glances back at the mattress behind him, finally able to notice in the darkness that a black blanket is already covering it. “Did you plan to keep me here ahead of time?” He doesn’t like becoming predictable.

“eh, no, i don’t plan ahead, too lazy.” And yet, the blanket is there, smelling like clean laundry. Sans steps back, heading for his drawers. “you should undress.” To which Razz frowns, and tenses. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He never really heard this in a good context.

Sans turns around from his drawers, a clean black shirt in his hands. “i’m not, you might just like not to stain the blankets.” 

Ah. True, he came here because of another hit he got from his Queen. He forgot about the marrow that must have spread in the inside of his armor. The pain is still very much there, how used is he to it that he has forgotten to hide it here?

He must look lost for a second, because Sans reaches for him gently. “it’s okay.” But it doesn’t feel okay, he can see Sans’s hatred in his sockets. He thought, the first times he saw it, that it was directed at him, but understood later that Sans resented the Queen. He still isn’t sure how he feels about it.

When Sans’s fingers reach his clothes, Razz slaps them away before he can think. Automatically, guilt crashes over him, but Sans doesn’t look surprised or betrayed. “it’s really okay.” His voice is soft, it should insult him, he isn’t fragile, yet he leans into it. 

Sans tries to reach for his cheek, and his smile becomes sincere the moment Razz lets him do it. It’s warm, and he closes his sockets for a second. “I don’t know how you do this, I hate it.” 

The chuckles that reaches his acoustic meatus is pleasant. “eh, i’m just good.”

***

There’s a loud noise in the house in the middle of the night. In a second, Razz is awake and sitting in the bed, magic-fueled bones around his head. His soul races when he doesn’t recognize his own room, only to twist when he realises he is still at Sans’s. 

“s’probably paps.” Sans sounds sleepy beside him, he doesn't reach for him. Knowing better. They hear a half scream, half whispered “SORRY!” in the background, proving Sans right. “see?” 

Even so, it feels wrong to relax now that he is so on edge. Back home, nothing makes so much noise without danger being near. 

He wonders if Slim is okay in the other room. Being only dressed in the large black shirt the other skeleton gave him earlier makes him feel too exposed and defenseless. 

His soul keeps pulsing in his ribcage, and he is unable to undo the magic holding the bones up or to remove his stare from the door. 

“hey, love.” It surprises Razz each time Sans uses it (always only in the middle of the night), enough so that he stops staring at the door to look back at him. “want to get off? i mean get your mind off of this, obviously.”

Obviously he meant the first one, or, well, both. “You are way too sleepy.” With the light that comes from his bones, he can see how Sans’s sockets are still half closed. Razz doesn’t like to think about the fact that he is considering the proposition. His body is so tense and his ribs started hurting again, and he just wants something to hold onto. Sex might be an idea.

“you always want to choke me, my tongue works well.” To prove his point, a blue tongue slips out of Sans’s teeth, and Razz can’t help the way his eyes follow it. He can picture the scene Sans has in mind, which makes heat pools embarrassingly easily between his legs. It isn’t easy to hide as he isn’t wearing any pants, soft purple light showing where the shirt ends. 

The bone attack finally disappears into thin air, even if his soul is still pounding. Razz might not like getting fucked, which means he doesn’t create a cunt that often, but it still comes to him easily. He moves from his place in the bed, all of his bones heavy (and trembling, but he will ignore that too), to get his tibias on each side of Sans’s head. 

It does seem to wake Sans up a bit more, his hands finding Razz’s hip bones. “I’m directing this.” His cheeks feel hot when he raises himself above the other’s face, giving him a full view and access to his junk.

To this, Sans only winks and brings the shirt up Razz’s middle part. “use me well, love.” 

Razz definitely doesn’t shiver at the nickname. Definitely not. And he doesn’t press his cunt into Sans’s face to hold him from commenting something about it. 

To be honest, Sans does know how to use his tongue. He knows well. The way he brings his tongue around the clit, sliding just past it to slide slightly inside, is enough for Razz to have to push his hands against the wall to hold himself there. 

It’s true that he isn’t a fan of being fucked with a cock, but a tongue (Sans’s one especially) on the other hand is another story. He soon enough finds himself rocking his hips against the other’s face, feeling the tongue moving inside of him, going further and licking the sides of his cunt. 

It feels awesome, finally lets Razz empty his mind of all the other stuff. At the moment, what is important is the pleasure building up in his bones. 

He doesn’t moan, but his breathing is a mess. 

The only whimper Sans manages to get out of him is when he flattens the base of his tongue against his clit, causing an intense wave of pleasure to go through Razz. Sans seems to appreciate it, his grip suddenly tighter on his hips. 

The feeling is maddening, his thrusts becoming messier. Fucking himself on Sans’s tongue, while he has half-closed sockets, purple coloring his face from how wet Razz is, is a pretty picture he shall keep in bank. 

However, before he can come, Razz becomes too sensitive to continue. It’s a bad habit of his body when he is too tense. He almost wants to swear as he moves away from Sans’s tongue, shivering. “Stop.” His command is clear through his breathing, and the other obeys quickly.

“too much?” It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now, and he doesn’t look disappointed, which reassures Razz a bit. 

Humming, he moves from Sans’s face to sit on his chest. The tired skeleton seems fine with it, drawing rounds softly against his iliac crests. It’s oddly reassuring. Razz glances down at Sans’s pyjamas pants. They are made of a light material that lets the aroused magic show through them. “Do you already have something?” 

The way Sans seems to have to think about it is hilarious, how the fuck doesn’t he know what he has between his legs, really? “a cunt, eh.” Maybe he unconsciously made one knowing Razz would prefer it if he himself had one. 

“Good.” He moves from the rib cage, Sans removing his hands from his hips. It leaves cold unwanted spots. “Lower your pants.” He can almost see the effort this asks out of Sans, but Razz enjoys watching the other uncovering his junk. It’s soaking wet. 

Once the pants reaches Sans’s patellas, he does bring the rest down by himself. It would otherwise be in the way. 

Razz is honestly happy for this distraction, for Sans’s willingness to give him something to release some stress even if he is clearly sleepy. He is grateful even if he won’t say it. 

After a minute, letting himself some time to feel less riled up, Razz moves one of his legs between Sans’s ones and the other one just on the outside. When he presses Sans’s legs up, aligning their cunts, the other seems to understand what is happening. “oh, yup, okay.” His eyes are now fully open.

“Glad you like the idea.” And without ceremony, he opens the lips of both their cunts and presses them together. It’s easy to feel the shiver going all the way down Sans’s body. His hands reach for Razz, to press him there and make him lean above him in a more comfortable position.

They move their hips together--it’s sliding well with how wet they both are. It’s exactly what he needed, pressure everywhere, hard enough to keep him from being too oversensitive. 

Soft moans escape Sans’s throat in a way that makes Razz closes his sockets hard, each one of them adding to the building pleasure.

It doesn’t take long for the room to be filled with slick sounds and harsh breathing, and even with all of his efforts, the moment their clits brush together, Razz’s breaths sound more and more like throaty moans. 

After a few more thrusts, his arms start to shake under the pressure. Sans is holding him close, his own thrusts becoming messier. Razz can feel so much of him in the way his cunt pulses. 

He wants to hold back and let Sans come first, but one single, harsher move of their hips and he comes hard. Sans helps him ride it out, holding him there, sliding against each other until Razz bats his hands away so he can move. 

He lets himself hide his face under Sans’s jaw, hugging him weirdly. He hears more than he sees the other reach for his arousal to get his own release. The way he whimpers against him when he reaches it, keeping him close, gives Razz a similar feeling to being high. 

They take a few minutes like that, both with come dripping down their femurs and pubis. It’s almost pretty, in the darkness. Or maybe he is finally spent enough to have tired thoughts. 

Razz realises he closed his eyes when he feels Sans’s teeth press against his frontal bones in a chaste kiss. “feeling better?” He clearly is on the verge of falling asleep, even with Razz on top of him and their bones dirty. 

“Yes.” He doesn’t lie. It’s true, he feels way better now. “Sleep.” That’s his gift for the attention, he will let Sans keep him like this.

It’s a bit disgusting, but he can forgo it for the night.

Sans deserves it (and maybe he also wants to keep him close. Maybe.).

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, I know my gf is still screaming about so. Leave a kudos or a comment to motivate me to write a bit haha.
> 
> Wanna follow me?
> 
> Twitter: asthrayy_lv  
Tumblr: sansybooy


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